In the Family
by Hopeakaarme
Summary: Atobe's father has always been rather absent, so when Akihito suddenly falls in love and decides to become a family man, the changes won't be easy to anyone. Especially when his new stepbrother is from Rikkai. Eventual shounen ai Tango Pair, JackalJirou.
1. Surprises

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Konomi Takeshi does. I'm merely playing with them for the moment.

A/N: Between the 1st and 25th of December, I kept posting one fic/update a day over at my LJ, **lumelle**. These updates were in series of five fics sharing a theme.

The fourth series of five started five AUs. This one is an attempt to give Atobe an actual family instead of just ever-absent parents... and to make Jackal more than a comic relief or a background character.

* * *

**In the Family**

_Chapter 1_

Surprises

Had Kuwahara Isadora not been momentarily distracted by a child running by, everything might have gone quite differently.

As it was, her attention was indeed caught by the boy who brushed past her, almost making her spill her tea. She looked after him, wondering why his parents weren't keeping an eye on him, letting him run around the café like that.

Her eyes elsewhere, she didn't notice the briefcase set on the floor next to one of the tables until she tripped over it. The "almost" became "completely" as she stumbled, the cup flying from her hands. She watched with horror as it the hot liquid fell into the lap of the owner of the briefcase. Followed by herself.

For a second, she was stunned. Then she started quickly apologizing, quickly pushing herself up. The poor man looked just about as shocked as she was, his obviously expensive suit stained with tea. Grabbing some paper napkins from the next table, she started cleaning up the spill as best as she could.

A hand closed over her wrist in a surprisingly gentle hold. "_Please, do calm down_," the man said in English. She blinked in surprise, then just nodded wordlessly as he took the napkins from her, starting to pat at his poor clothes himself to dry them. A waiter hurried over, looking just about as shocked as Isadora herself felt, but the man simply waved him off.

"_I'm so sorry_," she muttered, terrified at the thought of what cleaning such a suit would come to cost. "_It's all my fault, I'll certainly –_"

"_Oh, no. It was my fault for leaving my briefcase there._" He looked up at her, looking at her for a moment. Isadora felt as though she was being thoroughly scrutinized for some unknown purpose. As he next spoke, he did so in Japanese. "Do you speak Japanese?"

"Ah, yes," she replied, blinking. She hadn't even fully realized they were talking in English in the first place; her response to him had been just automatic. "I've lived here a while…"

"Excellent." He sighed, glancing at the laptop he had open on the table. "How good would you say you are in English? And Japanese, for that matter."

Well, wasn't that just a strange question… nevertheless, she somehow managed a tiny smile. "I make a living as a translator," she replied, a hint of pride in her voice. "Between Portuguese, English, and Japanese."

He smiled back at her, now, and for all that she was still feeling flustered and embarrassed and all things horrible, really, she could feel the knot in her stomach melting away just a little bit. He looked absolutely charming. "In that case… I have a proposition for you." He gestured for her to take a seat. She did so, sitting down opposite to him. Somehow, it seemed impossible for her to even imagine not doing as he told. "You see, I'm supposed to have a business meeting in less than an hour, and my usual interpreter just called me a moment ago and told she couldn't show up. One of my business partners only speaks Japanese, while two others only speak English, and while I have mastered both I'd hate to be stuck interpreting everything when I'm supposed to be leading the negotiations."

She nodded slowly. Was he suggesting… that she'd do that instead? It sounded like a rather serious matter, and she hadn't done much live interpreting before…

Perhaps her uncertainty showed on her face, as he smiled again. "Don't worry, it doesn't have to be perfect; merely enough that everyone can follow the general flow. As I said, I will be leading the discussion, and can clear things up if there are any questions. Of course, I will pay you whatever you consider to be a reasonable fee," he added. "I know this is an extremely short warning and you might have prior engagements, so the least I can do is give you adequate compensation for your time and effort… provided you'll agree, of course."

Isadora didn't really know what to say. One moment, she'd been worrying about having to pay for the results of her blunder… and now, she was being offered a job opportunity. It was all like some kind of a bizarre dream. The man might be some strange stalker, or at the very least he had to be mad to offer to hire a total stranger, or… or he could just be a wealthy businessman with a problem in his hands and very little time to solve it.

And, well, she had ruined his suit.

"I'll do it," she said.

"Most excellent." She wasn't sure if it was a smirk or a smile, really, but once again it drew her right in. "Shall we go, then? There isn't a lot of time remaining, but I'll arrange for my driver to bring me a replacement suit while we try and get something adequate for you to wear. Not to say your current outfit is not most flattering, of course," he added, "but I hope you'll excuse me if I dare suggest it isn't exactly standard attire for business negotiations."

Isadora glanced down at her simple skirt and top and couldn't help but agree. She didn't exactly look business-like; then, she also hadn't expected to do anything but drink a cup of tea at the café. Before she could say anything, however, she found herself being almost literally swept along as the man quickly gathered his things and strode out of the little café.

As she was ushered into an actual limo with a man whose name she didn't even know, she wasn't sure if she'd just made a horrible mistake or the best decision in her life.

*

"I'm home," Jackal called out as he stepped in, toeing his shoes off and setting them more or less neatly aside before putting on his slippers. Marui at his side was less careful, simply kicking the shoes off before taking out the pair of slippers that was practically his. You knew you stayed over a lot when you had your own pair of slippers.

Curiously, there was no response. Jackal frowned, tossing his school bag at the doorway of his room before walking to the kitchen, Marui following along. "Mother?" he called out. Again, he got no reply.

"Oh, hey, look." Marui pointed at a note on the table, promptly snatching it up and reading it aloud. "'Jackal, if you get home before me – I stepped out for some tea. There's a snack in the fridge. I should be back around four.'" Marui glanced at the wall clock and frowned. "…It's already past four, though."

"Weird." Jackal shook his head. His mother worked from home, so she was usually there when he got home. "I mean, she is sometimes later than expected, but at least she usually mails me as soon as she knows she won't be back in time…"

"Meh, she probably ran into a friend or something and forgot about the time." Marui popped a gum bubble and opened the fridge. "Oooh, this is neat. She remembered me, too!"

Jackal looked over Marui's shoulder, seeing two pieces of cake sitting neatly on a plate. There was a letter on top of each in pink frosting – Marui's favourite. 'J', said one, while the other declared, 'B'. "Of course she did. You always whine when she doesn't."

"Oi. I'm not that childish." Marui pouted very childishly as he took the plate out of the fridge. "Come on, come on~ Let's eat this cake! And you can send your mother a mail or something, right? Ask her when she comes back."

"…Right." Marui was probably right, anyway. She'd just started talking with a friend or something. It wasn't like there was anything to worry about.

She was probably having fun at the moment, anyway.

*

Isadora was feeling almost dizzy as she tried to keep up with everything that was happening. One moment she'd been at the café, the next she found herself in an extremely expensive clothing store where a very attentive salesman had speedily found her a business outfit that probably couldn't have fit her more perfectly if it'd been specifically tailored. Before she'd even had time to marvel at that, though, she'd already been sped off to the actual business negotiations.

The man who had hired her on spot, she found out, was called Atobe Akihito. He was the CEO of a medium-sized security firm, which was a part of the larger Atobe Corporation. While he admitted receiving his position due to a remote relation, he still insisted he was good at his job, and from what she'd seen at the negotiations she was inclined to agree. Atobe-san was just about everything she would expect from the perfect businessman – charming, intelligent, and good at winning people to his side. While her knowledge about business was rather limited, she was convinced that as hands were shaken and contracts signed at the end of the meeting everyone was more or less happy with the outcome. She certainly was; for all the bizarreness of the situation, it had at least been an interesting experience.

"I really must thank you for agreeing to do this, Kuwahara-san," Atobe-san told her as the other participants of the meeting left. "Your help was quite invaluable. Whatever fee you name for your services couldn't possibly be enough."

"Don't say that, I might get greedy," Isadora said with a tiny smile. "Though really –" Just then, she heard a ring from her phone. With a quick apology to Atobe-san, she dug it out of her purse and opened it. As she saw the notice for incoming mail, she almost wanted to slap herself. "Oh! I forgot to mail my son about being late," she sighed, worrying her lip. Hopefully Jackal hadn't gotten too worried about her…

"Ah, I apologize." Atobe-san frowned. "I've been keeping you from your other responsibilities… and here I was still planning to ask you for dinner to express my gratitude." Again that little smirk-smile. Very charming indeed.

Isadora looked at him, and again came to a split-second decision. Being somewhat impulsive had gotten her this far in life; why'd it stop serving her, now? "He's a big boy, he can handle himself for one evening," she said, then added with a slightly flustered tone, "assuming your invitation stands, of course."

"But of course." He slipped more towards a smile, again.

She quickly wrote a mail to her son, telling that she would be another while still and that he could take some of the emergency cash in the kitchen cabinet to get some take-out for Marui and himself. She didn't need to ask if Marui was there.

Good or bad, at least this day would be interesting.

*

"Mou, I've got to go soon," Gakuto complained, glancing at his watch. "My mum will flip if I'm not home in an hour…"

"But you can't leave yet," Jirou whined. "We just about got started!" He was awake for once, excited by the situation. The regulars were all cooped up in a karaoke box Atobe had reserved for the entire afternoon after a lot of whining from the more excitable part of the team. Now the captain himself mainly ignored them, just sitting there whenever someone wasn't bugging for him to sing. When they did, he always chose some fiendishly difficult song just to show off. Shishido kept rooting for him to fail, but this far Atobe had sung each one beautifully. The stupid diva.

"Must be troublesome," Atobe remarked, raising his eyebrows. Apparently he had been following their conversation after all. "Having to report in to your parents all the time, that is."

"Just because you don't have to doesn't mean we're all quite that free," Oshitari pointed out smoothly. "We can't exactly just call home and tell the servants to postpone the dinner by an hour."

"That must be rather lonely," Ootori commented softly, goodhearted as ever. "I mean, I can't even imagine my parents not keeping track of what I do… It would probably feel as though they don't even care."

"Michael keeps track of me well enough," Atobe replied, rolling his eyes. "Besides, care or not, it's not like my father is ever around, what with his constant business trips."

"And your mother?" Hiyoshi asked. "Why isn't she more worried about you?"

Instantly, everyone but Hiyoshi and Ootori seemed to freeze. Ootori merely seemed puzzled at the shocked looks on everyone's faces. Atobe, though, merely looked at Hiyoshi coolly. "She's back in London. Hard to look after me from there."

"London?" Hiyoshi frowned. "Isn't that… in England? You mean she lives that far away? That must suck."

"It's not like she's entirely alone or anything," Atobe said, flipping open his phone and browsing through it as he spoke as though they had been discussing something entirely trivial. "She has plenty of people around her, and I visit her twice a year… I know Father visits her every time he's in London, too."

"But why doesn't she ever visit here, then?" Hiyoshi asked, oblivious to the almost horrified gazes of the third-year regulars. "I mean, even if they're separated, if your father still visits her, it can't be that she can't stand to be in the same country with him or something…"

"Oh, I'm sure she'd love to visit," Atobe replied smoothly. "However, the cemetery wardens might be a bit alarmed if she suddenly decided to take a stroll."

Now even Hiyoshi was smart enough to be taken aback. "Cemetery?" he echoed. "You mean she's…"

"My mother is currently residing at the St. Pancras and Islington Cemetery," Atobe said, his voice smooth as velvet – and terribly cold. "Has been for the last ten years or so." Now, he shut his phone with an audible snap, followed by another snap, this time from his fingers. "Kabaji, we're leaving." Standing up, he glanced around. "Feel free to stay however long you like. I've already paid for the use of the place for the rest of the evening. However, I expect you all to show up at practice bright and early tomorrow." Not waiting for any responses, he then promptly walked out, Kabaji following closely behind.

For a moment, everyone looked after them. Then they turned to look at Hiyoshi, who for once had the decency to look absolutely horrified. "I didn't know," he murmured, lowering his eyes.

"Obviously," Gakuto sighed, shaking his head. "Ootori, too… Don't know how the two of you haven't learned it yet, but you don't discuss parents around Atobe. Just… it's just not done."

"That's so sad, though," Ootori murmured. "For his mother to be dead, and his father away…"

"It's sad all right," Shishido said, looking rather uncomfortable with the subject. "Now Atobe'll be strict tomorrow, too… Just pretend nothing happened, though, and he'll probably be willing to ignore it, too."

There was silence for a moment, broken as Jirou bounced up, even his usual cheer somewhat forced, now. "Next song!" he announced, obviously anxious to get away from the subject. "I'll sing next, me, me!"

The discussion ended at that, though any mentions of parents were kept to minimum for the rest of the night.


	2. Sons

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Konomi Takeshi does. I'm merely playing with them for the moment.

A/N: I'll try to keep things balanced with the PoVs. However, in the beginning there may be more of the parents as I set the stage for their relationship; later, we'll see more from the boys' PoV.

* * *

**In the Family**

_Chapter 2_

Sons

"So," Akihito said, starting the conversation as they waited for their dinner to be prepared, "you have a son, Kuwahara-san?"

"Ah, yes." Isadora smiled with the manner of someone who was just about to breach her favourite subject. "One son, Jackal. He is currently fourteen years old. In his final year of middle school." Smiling proudly, she suddenly took her purse, starting to browse through it. Finding her cell phone, she opened it, showing it to him. On the screen background he saw an image of a young boy, with tanned skin and a neatly shaved head. "He's always making me proud."

"I'm sure." He nodded. The boy didn't look like some criminal thug or anything, at least. "Do you have any other family?"

"Ah, not really." Her smile faltered briefly before returning. "My husband... passed away some years ago. He left me Jackal and a love of Japan. My parents and the rest of my family are still in Brazil, so even though we do keep in touch with his part of the family, mostly it's just Jackal and I." She tilted her head minutely. "And you, Atobe-san? Do you have any family?"

"Believe it or not, my situation is much the same." He smirked briefly. "I have one son, Keigo... currently fourteen years old, in his final year of middle school." Keigo... was still fourteen, right? Right. He couldn't have turned fifteen yet, Akihito was certain of that. Michael would have reminded him if that had been the case. "I'm afraid I don't have a picture of him with me, but I've been told he resembles me quite a bit." Almost instinctively, his fingertips brushed against his left hand. "My wife, ah, left us close to ten years ago. Back then, we still lived in England, which is where she was from; however, we moved to Japan when Keigo started middle school."

"Really?" She raised her eyebrows. "With such similarities, I might almost be tempted to doubt your story."

"Believe me, I am telling the truth." Why wouldn't he? Even if he were some sort of lying creep trying to charm women, being the single father of a teenager was hardly the most attractive story he could have spun together. "Though that does remind me... are you sure your son will be all right, with my having stolen you away for the evening?"

"Oh, Jackal will be fine." Isadora chuckled. "It's not like he's all alone. He probably has his friend over, the boy practically lives in our house... and anyway, I'm sure they won't do anything any stupider than they would with me there. Jackal's a sensible young man if I do say so myself."

He couldn't help but feel a slight smile tugging at his own lips at her happy tone. "You certainly do sound proud of him."

"Oh, I am! But then, he's practically my everything," she said. "I work at home most of the time, so we're together whenever he isn't at school or out with friends. I'm rather thankful for how close we are; I know so many people who do not have such a connection with their children."

"I wish I could say the same." Akihito shook his head. "My work keeps me away from home most of the time, so I don't get to spend a lot of time with my son." He could hardly even remember when they'd last sat down on a meal together aside from some holidays or formal dinners. He did sometimes arrange for a lunch or a dinner at some fine restaurant 'to catch up,' but though they both talked at those meetings he could rarely later recall just what had been said. It was rather clear he couldn't have told anyone much about Keigo's life. Keigo was smart, sure, successful, of course, and good-looking, naturally; beyond this, he had little idea what his son did or liked or thought. It was almost embarrassing, to realize his ignorance in such an obviously important manner.

But then, Keigo had always been an independent young man, he thought then, comforting himself with this fact. Independent, and at times quite stubborn as well. He knew exactly what he liked and made sure he got it; certainly he could survive without constant guidance from his father. He was probably only glad not to have too much parental interference in his life.

"Oh, I'm sure he'll be all right. And then, kids that age rather appreciate their space, I think," Isadora pointed out. "Some days I hardly see Jackal at all! Especially before tournaments. He's a member of the regular team in the school tennis club, you see," she added, again with a tone of pride. "Their school was the best in nation for two years and now the second best, this year." She sighed and shook her head. "Sometimes I think they take it all too seriously, with all the training they do... but then, I'm just glad they have something they're passionate about, you know? It shows such drive and determination, too, giving up so much of their free time for practice in their age."

"Aren't most people like that when they're young?" Akihito asked. "When they have their heart set on something, nothing and nobody will lead them aside."

"Indeed!" Isadora nodded. "It was rather sad, you know... Yukimura-kun, their captain, that is, was hospitalized last year. He had this difficult syndrome... he was completely paralyzed for a while, but somehow, he fought his way back into the Nationals finals, this year. I was watching, of course. It never ceases to amaze me just how far they can push themselves. Jackal's so quiet and kind at home, too; no matter how many times I see it, I can never stop wondering about how he just seems to be on fire or something as he steps onto the court."

"Children are amazing like that." He thought back to when Keigo had been little more than a toddler, trying to learn skipping rope for the first time. No matter how many times he'd fallen over and hurt himself, the boy had always just pushed himself up again, determined to go on. When he'd finally managed a few jumps without tripping over the rope or his own feet, he'd been absolutely delighted.

Akihito wondered just how sad it was that this was the most recent memory he could recall of Keigo pushing his limits. But then, during Elizabeth's illness most things had been left in his memory as little more than a few blurs with little detail. By the time he had recovered from the shock, Keigo had no more needed him.

Luckily, Isadora either didn't notice or didn't mention his apparent lack of similar stories about his son. Perhaps she forgave him on account of his job, which did play a big part in his distance from his son's life. In any case, Isadora seemed all too happy to talk about her own son, and Akihito didn't exactly mind listening. It was rather charming to see her eyes light up as she talked about the young Jackal, the pride and affection quite clear in both her expression and her voice. This Jackal was indeed a fortunate young man to have such a loving mother looking after him.

The conversation carried on to other topics, the dinner as it arrived, as well was work and other more general subjects. Even then, Akihito found himself repeatedly enquiring this and that about Isadora's son, as it seemed that topic made her smile the most.

As they finally exchanged cards before he arranged for a car to take her home, he wasn't entirely sure it was solely for work purposes as they both agreed

~S~

"Good evening, madam," a serious voice greeted Isadora as she opened the door to her house. "May I ask what you're doing here?"

"Very funny, Marui-kun." She chuckled even as she crouched down to take her shoes off. "I'd like to ask you the same thing, actually. Isn't it rather late?"

"I called my parents and they said I can stay over since I have tomorrow's school books with me already." Marui popped a bubble of gum. It was pink, she noticed; the last time she'd seen him it had been somewhat greenish. Strawberry, perhaps, this time? "We would have asked you, too, except you weren't here, and you never say no anyway."

"True enough, I guess." She laughed. "Thank you for keeping Jackal company, as usual." She patted her head, getting that adorable slightly embarrassed look on his face. It was so absolutely adorable she almost wanted to pinch his cheek.

"Well, someone has to, with you being out so late," Marui complained. "We almost starved to death as we thought you'd come here and cook for us!"

"I do recall telling you to order take-out or something," she replied calmly. She knew Marui well enough by now. "And even if you didn't want to do that, I know very well you're both capable of cooking for yourselves."

"We did get take-out, we indeed are, and Marui'll be quiet now." Jackal raised his eyebrows at her as he, too, walked into the hall. "What took you so long? I mean, you said it's something work-related, but I'd think no work you do takes this late..."

"Obviously, she's started a job as a hostess at a club or something," Marui said solemnly. "It'd explain the new dress and everything. Right, Isadora-san?"

"One more comment about my dresses and I'll forget I ever thought you might be even distantly straight," Isadora replied lightly. After all, if Marui could tease him... "Worry not, boys. I merely met this man at a café and got hired as a live interpreter for his business meeting, and then we went out for a dinner afterwards. It was simply to thank me for taking the job on the spot, that's all."

"Woah. Just like that?" Jackal's eyes widened almost comically. "...Was it a legitimate job? No shady business?" Ah, her dear little son, always looking after her...

"Perfectly legitimate, don't worry. He was merely in a bit of a pinch as his usual interpreter cancelled at a moment's notice." She would have ruffled his hair except he didn't have any, so she just patted his head instead as she passed him on her way to the kitchen. "Enough of a pinch that he paid me more than I usually make in a full week of work, actually."

"Wow." Marui shook his head. "Sounds like you really got lucky there."

"I certainly didn't feel so at first," she laughed. "I tripped and spilled my tea all over him, can you imagine? I was absolutely panicked; I thought I'd have to buy him a new suit or something. It was an expensive suit, too."

"Well, it'd better be, judging by that dress." Marui nodded towards the dress she was wearing. "Call me gay if you want, but even I can tell that's expensive, and I've never seen it before."

"That's because I haven't worn it before," Isadora replied. "Because yes, it was bought just today. And guess what?" She glanced at the boys. "This was only for the dinner afterwards. He also bought me a business suit for the meeting itself."

"...He's either filthy rich, or just fell in love at a first sight." Marui popped another gum bubble. "And looking at that, I'd guess at the second option." He raised his eyebrows in a rather appreciative way that caused Jackal to slap him slightly. Silly boys.

"Oh, hush, you." Isadora laughed. She glanced appreciatively around the kitchen. Aside from a couple of stray glasses, the boys had cleaned up after themselves quite well. "Well done, boys~ This looks just great. Apparently I can count on you to manage on your own occasionally."

"I'd still appreciate a bit of warning, you know." Jackal looked at her somewhat more sharply than usual. "I know you're an adult and all, and it's not like you have to answer to me about what you do, but if your note says you'll be back by four and the house's empty well past four, I'll get the slightest bit worried if you can imagine."

"I know, I know." She patted his head again. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you like that. If anything like this happens ever again, I'll mail you first of all."

"..As long as you remember that." Jackal looked a bit embarrassed at his worry. Still, she felt bad for making him so concerned. Ah, well. It wouldn't happen again. The whole thing was just so surreal, she was sure by the morning she'd think she'd just dreamed it all.

She might have, too, had it not been for the courier showing up at their door with a package containing both her original clothes and the business suit, freshly cleaned and pressed.

~S~

It was rather rare, Akihito thought, for him to actually spend the morning in what he supposed could have been called his home. It wasn't all that often nowadays that he even was in Tokyo in the first place, and even when he was, his mornings were usually too hurried for him to even make any note of his surroundings. For once, though, he had time for a leisurely morning, even if his idea of "leisurely" still involved getting up soon after six in the morning.

It was somewhere around seven that he found himself in one of the sitting rooms, just finishing his breakfast and perusing the financial pages of his papers. The faint sound of a dog barking carried in through the slightly opened window, drawing his interest. Rising from his seat, he walked up to the window, looking out.

Considering there weren't exactly endless numbers of dogs wandering about the grounds that he knew of, Akihito was not entirely surprised to see his son outside. Granted, there was some distance to the figure near the stables, but a glimpse of the sandy hair before a riding helmet covered was enough to confirm Keigo's identity. The horse seemed rather unbothered by the happily barking dog next to it, waiting patiently until its rider got up before starting to move, apparently mindful of the white ball of fluff skipping by its side. In another moment, Keigo and his dog disappeared from sight to somewhere beyond the view of his window. The grounds certainly were large enough for them to explore.

Now that he thought about it, Keigo had always liked animals, hadn't he? At least well-behaved ones, not the likes of the big dog that had scared him as a child. That dog outside just now... had it really been Beat? It certainly looked the same, a mere mop of white with a bark far worse than its bite, but... it seemed so long ago that he'd first seen his son hugging the puppy nobody else had wanted and declaring it his very own, don't you meanies dare touch my puppy. Had Keigo gotten a new dog since then?

For some reason, Akihito felt rather uneasy to realize he had no idea.


	3. Changes

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Konomi Takeshi does. I'm merely playing with them for the moment.

A/N: I have no freakin' idea how badly off my Rikkaians are... x_X Jackal feeding the biology class's turtle is a canon fact from PairPuri.

* * *

**In the Family**

_Chapter 3_

Changes

"Now don't look so miserable, Choutarou." Shishido sighed, shaking his head. "You look like someone killed your puppy or something." It made him vaguely uncomfortable, seeing Ootori feeling so obviously down. It'd happened a lot recently, but today was the worst of all.

"But you're leaving, Shishido-senpai." Shishido's description of Ootori's expression was... frighteningly accurate, actually, much though he would have preferred it to be simple teasing. He looked absolutely heartbroken. "Of course I'm miserable!"

"We're only leaving the club, not the school, though," Jirou pointed out, yawning. At least someone was being sensible about this... "It's not like you'll never see each other again, right?"

"But we can't play together anymore!" Ootori protested. "What'll I do without Shishido-senpai to play with?"

"Probably kick everyone's ass with someone else, just like you did before we started playing together." Shishido stepped closer to pat Ootori's head. It felt somewhat awkward due to their height difference, but he didn't let it stop himself. "You'll be fine, Choutarou. You always are. Now stop worrying; I can't be here all the time to pick you up from the ground anymore if you get too depressed." Silly Ootori. He didn't have to worry; he played great doubles no matter who he was paired with. For Shishido, it wasn't quite that easy... not that it mattered, anyway. If he couldn't play with Ootori, he'd just go back to singles. He wasn't a doubles player, had never been. Just because Ootori was an exception to the rule didn't make it any less of a rule.

"Listen to your senpai, now." Atobe appeared at the doorway, the familiar smirk on his face, already in uniform. Apparently the idiot had arrived before them for once. Of course the only time he actually deemed it worth his while to show up in the beginning of the morning practice it was only so he could make fun of his kouhai. "It's not like anything stopped you from playing together outside practice before, is it? And there's always the street courts if you want witnesses for your little love affair."

Now, the misery on Ootori's face was replaced with a flush. Shishido felt his own cheeks heating up as well, but then that was only because he was angry. "Shut up, Atobe," he growled. "Just because you can't play doubles to save your life doesn't mean you have to make fun of everyone who actually manages it!"

"If my life were down to my doubles ability, I might rather just die," Atobe replied lightly. "In any case, my words stand. Now's not the time for misery just because it's the third years' last day of practice. Rather I'd think you'd be happy, Ootori." The smirk got even wider. Shishido was just about ready to punch him, captain or not. "After all, it's not every day you become a vice-captain." ...Okay, so maybe no punches were necessary after all.

"I... what?" Ootori looked rather confused. "What do you mean, Atobe-buchou?"

"Oh, for the love of..." Atobe rolled his eyes. "What I mean is that starting tomorrow, you will be the vice-captain of the club. Clear enough?" Not even giving Ootori the time to respond, he snapped his fingers. "That said – everyone out, quick! I won't have the regulars giving the younger ones a bad example in our final day at the club." With this, he disappeared from the doorway, leaving the others looking after him.

Shishido was the first one to recover. "Did you hear that, Choutarou?" He nudged his taller doubles partner in the side. "You're going to be a vice-captain! Isn't that great?"

"Ah – I guess." Ootori rubbed the back of his head somewhat sheepishly. "I – I never thought –"

"Well, obviously, Atobe did." Shishido couldn't help but grin as he tugged at Ootori's arm. "Come on, let's go now. I wouldn't put it past him to change his mind if you don't show up like he told us to!"

"Ah, okay." The miserable look on Ootori's face was replaced by a little, careful smile. "...And he was right, wasn't he? We can still play together and meet outside practice..."

"You'd better believe it," Shishido chuckled. Like he'd give up playing with Ootori that easily.

Rather, Ootori would probably soon get sick of seeing him around.

~S~

"I thought you said vice-captains are unnecessary if the captain is competent enough." Sakaki looked at the young man who was, for today still at least, the captain of the tennis club he was supposed to coach.

Atobe smirked and nodded. "I know I did," he replied. "Perhaps I changed my mind about Hiyoshi's level of competency."

"If that were the case, you wouldn't have recommended him for the next captain." Atobe wasn't exactly that stupid. He might have looked like he did just about everything on a whim, but after three years, Sakaki knew very well exactly how much thought and consideration the boy put into all the important decisions. Or the ones he considered important, in any case.

"He still has some maturing to do." Atobe shrugged. "With luck, he'll be ready to lead the team in the next year's tournaments."

Sakaki shook his head. "...You took over captaincy on your first day, as I recall." Now, that had been quite a show. Never before nor since had he seen a first year with quite that much confidence – or sheer skill. Hyoutei's regular team had always been strong; to beat every member of it on his very first day, Atobe was something quite... unique.

"I was infinitely more mature than Hiyoshi is now." That self-confident smirk was one of the things that hadn't changed one bit in three years.

Sakaki couldn't help but smirk a bit in response. "...Even then, you are too soft for your own good." Oh, it wasn't like Atobe really imagined Sakaki didn't know what he had done, was it?

"Just don't tell that to anyone." Atobe raised his eyebrows in amusement. "My reputation as a selfish, egotistic bastard would be ruined forever."

"Oh, I'm sure there's no danger of that happening any time soon." Sakaki glanced at the plans for the afternoon practice before nodding. "...So, Ootori for vice-captain, eh? Very well. Do what you will." His lips twitched. "You always do, after all."

"...Thank you, Kantoku."

~S~

"Jackal?" Marui peeked in to the classroom. He'd been told his friend was there, though why, he had no idea. "Jackal, where are you?"

"Ah, I'm here." Jackal turned to smile at him from where he was crouched down in front of the terrarium. "I was just... feeding him."

"I thought you usually feed him in the morning, though." Marui walked closer, leaning down to look at the turtle sitting quietly in the glass tank. He couldn't even tell if the thing was alive, most of the time, but maybe Jackal saw something else in it, who knew. "Isn't that why you're always in a hurry after morning practice?"

"Ano..." Jackal looked somewhat sheepish.

"And how long are you going to have to feed him, anyway? The committees have to switch to new members soon, anyway. Why don't you just make some younger kid feed him already?" There was no response, this time. Marui looked at his friend questioningly. "...Jackal?"

"...I think I'll miss him." Jackal scratched his head. "I mean... it's kind of silly, isn't it? He's just a turtle, and I'll still see him in class sometimes... it's not like he's even mine. But still... I think I'll miss feeding him." He looked away. "...I'm ridiculous, aren't I?"

"Yeah. You are." Marui rubbed Jackal's head. It felt funny under his hand, as usual. Why someone would go to such trouble to keep their head hairless went beyond him, but then that was Jackal. Marui still thought he should have just taken Kirihara's suggestion and shaved his eyebrows off, too. "That's okay, though. It makes you cute in a kind of a dorky way."

"Oi!" Jackal protested. "I'm not cute! Or dorky." Protesting made him even cuter. Marui smirked.

"I bet you're just jealous of the thing," he chimed. Man, he sounded like that one first-year, now... "That's pretty much the best defence ever, you know? The turtle shell. I bet you'd like to just have a big shell you could put over half the court so all the opponent's balls would bounce off."

"I'm pretty sure that would be against the rules, though." Jackal laughed. "And where would we stand, anyway? Or would we just sit on top of the shell?"

"Idiot. Obviously you'd be inside the shell, just like the turtle," Marui replied. "And I would... I don't know. Oh yeah, I'd sit on top of you! And then you could walk around and I'd ride on you and stuff. I could hit tennis balls at everyone who didn't get out of the way of your big shell. You'd be like my very own personal tank. That'd be freaking awesome."

"Except I couldn't get through any doors," Jackal pointed out. "And then I'd freeze to death in the winter because I couldn't get inside to be warm."

"Don't be silly. With a shell that big, you could have your own little house inside it," Marui pointed out in what he thought was a perfectly reasonable point. "You could have heating and everything so we wouldn't have to worry about your cute little Brazilian butt dropping off due to freezing." He blew a bubble gum bubble and popped it. It was a cute butt, in any case. "And then whenever Yukimura or Sanada was after me for some silly reason again I could come by and hide inside you!" He paused, then added, "In a non-dirty way, of course."

"You never mean anything in a non-dirty way," Jackal pointed out. Ah, the joys of friends who knew you well!

Marui smirked. "You know me." He patted Jackal's head again. "Come on, let's go. Last one buys drinks after practice." With this, he bounced up and hurried out of the classroom.

"Oi!" Jackal exclaimed, rushing after him. "Last one where?"

Marui laughed. "Wherever I get before you~" he called out over his shoulder.

Jackal shouted something after him with a rather exasperated tone, but Marui didn't listen. It didn't matter what Jackal said; at least he wasn't stupidly wistful, anyway. Cute though it was, Marui didn't really like seeing Jackal like that.

~S~

Certainly not merely for work, Akihito found himself thinking as he shut his cell phone, having once again agreed on a meeting with Kuwahara Isadora. He wasn't exactly sure just what he was doing here, asking her repeatedly to join him for dinner without any pretence of a work offer or the like; however, he was certainly aware that he enjoyed their meetings, and from what he could tell she did, too. They'd already met twice since their first encounter, now. Isadora was still a rather refreshing occurrence in his life, different from everyone else he met regularly, happily talking about her own life and work and family.

Isadora seemed especially happy to talk about her son, so much so that Akihito almost felt like he knew the boy personally despite never having met him. He still enjoyed hearing more about the young Jackal simply for Isadora's obvious delight at talking about him, even though he sometimes felt quite taken aback as he realized he could not answer the questions she asked him about Keigo. He likes horseback riding, had Akihito once said, causing Isadora to laugh disbelievingly – how amazing, so does Jackal! At least for once, it wasn't he who appeared to be merely making up things to imitate the other. Still, even as he chuckled along, Akihito found himself wishing he could have told her more about his son. She probably thought he didn't even care about him at all. That was most certainly not true; he did care about his son, he just... didn't know Keigo. At all.

Perhaps, he should try and rectify this point. Walking to the door, he looked out, finding a maid waiting behind it. "Get Michael here," he said to her, then returned to his office. Soon enough he heard a knock on his door, followed by his head butler entering.

"You called, Akihito-sama?" Michael asked. He always looked the same, Akihito thought. There were perhaps a few more lines on his face and his hair was perhaps entirely grey now, but he was still the same old Michael he had known as a child.

"I did." Akihito looked seriously at Michael. "...What does Keigo do?"

Michael seemed rather surprised at his question. "Ah, if you mean what he is doing right now, I do believe he is at school," he replied, looking somewhat confused. Then, Akihito supposed he couldn't exactly blame the poor man. "Why so?"

"No. I meant, what does he do in general?" Akihito looked at Michael with an expression as close to wistfulness as he would allow his face to show, even in front of such an old friend. "How is he at school? What does he do with his time, aside from riding in the mornings?"

"Ah – I can get you his school report cards in just a moment," Michael replied. "He does do quite well; I believe he is on top of his class –"

"I've seen those," Akihito replied, waving his hand. And he had, indeed, presented to him on a regular basis, though to his shame he had to admit all he could recall about them was that the grades were excellent across the field. Had someone asked him – had Isadora asked him – he'd have had no idea about Keigo's interests or electives or anything of the kind. "I don't want to know about his grades. I want to know about my son."

He had known Michael for a long time, ever since he had himself been a young boy and Michael had first been employed by his family. Michael had seen him grow up, get married, become a father. Akihito even had a vague acquaintance with Michael's own family, his daughter being now a rather matronly woman who took good care of the kitchen of the manor. Even then, he wasn't sure if he could recall ever seeing Michael wear such a happy expression as he did now. "I'd be very happy to tell you about him, Akihito-sama."

Akihito looked at him suspiciously. "...You've been waiting for me to say that, haven't you?" he then asked, shaking his head.

Michael's smile quite gave him away. "Only for the last nine years, Akihito-sama."


	4. Questions

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Konomi Takeshi does. I'm merely playing with them for the moment.

A/N: Poor Kirihara...

* * *

**In the Family**

_Chapter 4_

Questions

"...That is Keigo?" Akihito's eyes were locked at the screen, fascinated. "He plays like that?" His own experiences of his son were rather limited in the recent years, mostly framed with formal clothing and awkward conversations and long rows of eating utensils. This... creature... that was running to and fro across the court, a grin on the face that was gleaming with sweat, seemed quite foreign to him. He was fairly sure he had never seen Keigo put quite as much passion into just about anything as he now saw shining through even from the video recording. He… rather regretted that he hadn't.

"This one time, at least." Michael nodded. "Most of the time, his play style is on the defensive side; in his last tournament match this year, however, he revealed this side of himself. It was... fascinating." He shook his head. "Sadly, he still lost his match. It was still quite spectacular, though." He pointed a remote at the TV set, freezing the frame. Akihito saw a delighted smirk on Keigo's face. He certainly seemed to be enjoying himself.

"You said last. So he played more than this one match in the tournament, then?" As Michael nodded, he asked, "How far did they go? He is in... Hyoutei, correct?"

"Correct, Akihito-sama." Michael nodded. "...I do believe their team went all the way to the National tournament. The only team that beat their regular team went on to win the national championship. The year before, Hyoutei was the second in Kantou area and went on to the national tournament as well."

"Meaning they are indeed strong." Akihito nodded slowly. "...And you say Keigo is the captain?"

"That would be correct, yes." Michael nodded in confirmation. "He took over the position on his very first day in Hyoutei... Though I do believe it is around this time of the year that they are to retire from their clubs."

"Three years." Akihito stared at the screen, trying to wrap his head around the fact. "He's been the tennis club's captain for three years and I didn't even know."

"With all due respect, Akihito-sama," Michael said, "you still thought he practised fencing regularly."

"Indeed." Akihito sighed. How was he supposed to know Keigo had switched to tennis as his main sport half way through primary school? "Anything else I should know about his tennis?"

"In the year between his last year of primary school and his first year of middle school, he took part in several junior tournaments in Europe, being quite successful." Michael sounded proud as though he'd been talking about his own son. Then, considering he had been the one to primarily look after Keigo for so many years... "In Japan, he is nationally ranked as one of the strongest singles player in his age group. I have quite a few magazine and news paper clippings from across the years, if you are at all interested."

"...I would be interested in seeing them, yes." He nodded slowly. It was perhaps far too late to take part in the first steps of this side of Keigo's life, but at least he could do his best to try and catch up on it. Perhaps, with enough time, he could make up for his negligence.

There was no way he could tell Isadora his son played tennis in a high-ranked school, too, though. After all the other coincidences, she couldn't possibly believe this one as well.

~S~

"Oi, calm down, Aka-brat." Marui reached out a hand to ruffle the second-year's dark hair. "It's not like it's the end of the world."

"B-but you're all leaving!" Kirihara protested. It was obvious he was doing his best not to cry and about to fail miserably. Jackal almost wanted to pull him into a hug but he rather suspected Kirihara's pride wouldn't have allowed it at the moment. Niou was already smirking at him anyway; no reason to give any more incentives for teasing.

"It's about the time, I would say," Yukimura said calmly. "After all, it's not like we can stay in the club forever. It would be rather inconvenient for us to come here for practice all the time when we've moved on to high school."

Of course, the mention of them moving on did not exactly have a calming effect on Kirihara. Rather, it did the exact opposite, making his face contort even more in apparent distress. Marui wasn't even smirking, now, instead looking somewhat baffled as though he'd had no idea how to deal with such a thing. Finally, he just stuck to ruffling Kirihara's hair some more.

"I rather thought this would be your reaction," Yanagi said, looking indeed rather unsurprised at Kirihara's nigh-crying. "However, one would think that you would be able to see the positive side to things. After all, not only will you be the captain, but you are also the only remaining regular member, which means you get to hand-pick your new team. Of course," he then added smoothly, "I'm sure Seiichi and Genichirou would be more than willing to aid you in such a tremendous decision."

"C-captain?" Kirihara's eyes widened. "You mean… I get to be the captain?"

"Oh, did I forget to mention that?" Yukimura exclaimed with his sweetest tone. "Of course you'll be the next captain. After all," he smiled sweetly at the poor kouhai, "nobody else remaining in the club has come even half as close to beating us as you have."

"Really?!" Immediately Kirihara's face brightened. "Yay! Er, I mean – great! I won't disappoint you, Yukimura-buchou!"

"I'm sure you won't." Another sweet, disarming smile the likes of which only Yukimura seemed to be able to generate. "In fact, I'm fairly certain you couldn't disappoint me even if you tried to, Akaya."

"I would never try to disappoint you!" Kirihara announced, rather missing the point in Jackal's opinion. "I'll make sure to beat Seigaku for you, Yukimura-buchou!"

"…I'm sure." Yukimura's smile twitched. He obviously didn't like to be reminded of the loss, but Kirihara didn't really seem to notice. All the better, Jackal decided. He really didn't want the poor boy to start crying again. "If you'd like, I can give you the list with recommendations from Genichirou and myself later this week. Of course, the final decision will be yours, but…"

"You'll pick the greatest team for sure!" As though Kirihara would ever question Yukimura's judgement. Of course, he would always announce how he was going to beat the Three Demons, but Jackal was fairly sure that if that ever actually happened, Kirihara would be even more horrified than the demons themselves. It was something of a constant, that gap between the three and everyone else. Jackal certainly wasn't going to question it, and there was no way Kirihara could have. "You and Sanada-fukubuchou are so wise!"

"Of course we will," Sanada gruffed, tugging his cap a bit lower. He'd seemed rather embarrassed earlier when Kirihara had been close to tears, and now again at the praise. Honestly. Sanada was just so hard to figure out sometimes. "Kirihara, tarundoru!"

Kirihara paused. Then blinked. "…You won't be around to say that to me anymore," he said quietly. And then it apparently got too much as he burst into tears, bawling his poor eyes out. Marui seemed rather startled, hand frozen in the middle of Kirihara's curls.

Sighing, Jackal stepped forward and pulled Kirihara closer for a hug, sending a mild glare to Niou's direction as he heard the trickster snickering. It wasn't an easy time for any of them, but least of all Kirihara.

And even though Kirihara was currently wetting his shirt entirely, he had to admit he was going to miss the seaweed brat.

~S~

Of all the men that Isadora had met in her life, none had been quite the same as Atobe Akihito.

There had been charming men, yes, men who had tried to sweep her off her feet with smiles and words and grand gestures. Once or twice she had met men who thought they could buy her affection with money. There had been her late husband, who had first gained her attention with his laugh and kind eyes. However, none of them had ever been quite the same as Akihito. Akihito couldn't apparently even bother to try to gain people's attention; he merely took it for granted. To him, gazes and words and whispers were as much a fact of life as the air around him. It wasn't the kind of narcissistic confidence she loathed, though, the kind that came of people assuming everyone should give them their full attention; rather it seemed that Akihito just had some strange aura that made people draw close to him, and he was well aware of the fact.

It wasn't that he had strikingly good looks. He did look pleasant, mind, with the clear arcs of eyebrows and soft black hair that curled just slightly so and fine features that were obviously pure Japanese with just a hint of something else back in his ancestry. However, it wasn't like he was always the most handsome person wherever they went. It wasn't his rather commanding presence, the way he obviously expected others to follow whatever orders or instructions he gave them, a feature she assumed was the result of his work. It wasn't even his money, which he didn't as much boast with as he just took it as another fact of life, taking her to the kind of restaurants that didn't even print their prices on the menu since needing to know the price meant you could not afford it. Somehow it was all this and a bit of something else, something in his smirk, in his deep chuckles, the soft look in his eyes when he mentioned how he wished he had a closer relationship with his son.

He was strange and different and unique, and Isadora was quite afraid she was very quickly falling for him.

"You know, Atobe-san, I've been thinking." She lowered her knife and fork, looking seriously at the man on the other side of the table. Her dinner was quite delicious, yes, but there was something she had to make clear before she thought on this matter any further.

"Yes?" Akihito looked at her curiously. "Is something wrong?"

"I don't think so, no." She tilted her head to the side. "I've just been wondering, with all these dinners... are we dating?" The first time had merely been him showing her his gratitude, or so they had agreed... and later, Akihito had never said exactly why they kept meeting again and again. He had never tried to kiss her or anything like that, and thus she hadn't made any such advances either despite her growing interest, but a couple of times she had caught him looking at her in a way that made her wonder whether they were meeting as "just friends" after all.

For a moment, Akihito just looked at her. Then, his face was taken over by perhaps the most charming smirk she had yet seen from him, which was saying a lot. "Do you want us to be?"

"Well..." She smiled a bit at him. "I'm not sure I'd be entirely against the thought."

"In that case, my lady," that blasted smirk again, how could anyone ever resist such a smirk, "I might say that few things indeed would bring me more pleasure than to claim a starting relationship with you."

She couldn't help but giggle a bit. God, how could he make her feel like a young girl all over again? In all the best ways, too. "The feeling is quite mutual, Atobe-san."

"Please, Kuwahara-san," he reached his hand to brush his fingertips against her hand, just lightly enough to send a tiny spark running through her, "I don't recall when I've last been so delighted to speak with someone as I now am to talk with you. Please, call me Akihito."

"In that case, Akihito-san," Isadora smiled, "I do insist that you call me Isadora."

"Well, it is a beautiful name," he chuckled. "I would be quite delighted to utter it... Isadora-san." Something about the way he said her name made her cheeks heat up.

They carried on the conversation, with just slightly softer tones than before. At one point, Akihito asked her whether she liked music. As she replied positively, he told her there was a late concert with dancing nearby that he just happened to have two tickets to, and asked if she would like to accompany him. She rather readily agreed.

A while later, as Akihito briefly excused himself, Isadora took her cell phone from her purse. She quickly typed an e-mail to Jackal and pressed 'Send.'

'Don't wait up.'

One way or another, she was sure this would turn out to be an... interesting... night.


	5. Relations

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Konomi Takeshi does. I'm merely playing with them for the moment.

A/N: To the anonymous reviewer: In fact, I find it quite unlikely that Isadora would remember enough of Atobe's name or face to make any sort of connection with Akihito. It's not like she'd remember every middle school kid who's played against Rikkai, even such a diva-ish one as Atobe, especially since it's been well over a year since Hyoutei and Rikkai last played against each other. Tezuka, she might remember. Atobe, not a chance.

* * *

**In the Family**

_Chapter 5  
_

Relations

It had been a while since Isadora had last felt like such a little girl – a little girl who was giggling after successfully tricking her parents.

It wasn't that she was late in coming home, no. Rather, it wasn't even early – not after eating a rather leisurely breakfast in the hotel room. It had been a rather strange experience, really. She had tried dating a few times after her husband, but never before could she have even considered doing something like that. Simply ending up in a hotel with the man without any prior plans to do so... and yet, she couldn't convince herself that this hadn't been the best possible way for things to go. She'd have been exaggerating if she'd called the night something like magical even in her mind, but it had certainly been worth whatever lecture she'd certainly get upon finally returning home.

Returning home was what she was doing now. It wasn't the first time she found herself being brought home after meeting with Akihito, but it was certainly the first time it happened in the morning. He stole one last kiss from her right before she got up from the car, hand lingering in hers. "Next Saturday?" he asked.

She smiled at him. "You can count on it." Then, she allowed the chauffeur to close the door, watching as the car soon drove away, Akihito hidden behind darkened windows.

With a slight sigh and a smile, she then headed to the front door. "I'm home," she announced, slipping out of her shoes and into slippers. Sometimes, she certainly could pass for a Japanese... well, as far as customs went, in any case.

"Welcome home," she heard her son's voice from the direction of the kitchen. Apparently he hadn't gone anywhere just yet, though he often spent Sunday out with his friends or in tennis practice or something. At least she certainly hoped he'd taken her advice and not stayed awake too long. Jackal got rather grumpy when he hadn't gotten enough sleep.

Making her way to the kitchen, she gave him an only slightly embarrassed smile. "Good morning, Jackal~" she said cheerfully.

"Good morning." Jackal raised his eyebrows at her. "About the time you show up."

"Ah – yes." Isadora felt her cheeks heating up a bit. "We... had a lot to talk about."

"I'm sure." Her son rolled his eyes. "You had so much to talk about, you just kept on talking all night long." As she opened her mouth to speak, though, he raised his hand. "No. I don't want to hear any details, thanks. I'll rather just... think you were talking." He shook his head.

Isadora chuckled. "We very well could have been," she said, a slightly mischievous smile on her lips. "He is a... fascinating... man."

"Is he, now?" Jackal poured two cups of coffee, handing one of them to her and taking a seat at the table, his own cup in his hands. "Will I ever hear anything else about him, or is he your personal little secret?"

"Silly Jackal," she chuckled, with a tiny sip at her coffee. "You are my son – my whole family, here in Japan. It's not like I could be dating someone and not let you know anything about him."

"So now you're dating. Great, more and more information." Fortunately, Jackal at least seemed more amused than annoyed. "Tell me more."

"Well, his name is Atobe Akihito," she said, smiling as she thought of him. "He's the CEO of a –"

"Whoa, pause a bit." Jackal was looking at her with wide eyes. "Did you say, Atobe?"

"Yes, I did." Isadora frowned a bit. "Is there something wrong?"

"Well... maybe. Kind of. Not really." Jackal gave her an odd look. "I might remember wrong, but... you said once that he has a son, right? About my age?"

"Yes, I did." Isadora tilted her head to the side, looking questioningly at her son. "One son, called Keigo. He's turning fifteen in a little while, I think, so he's just a bit older than you."

"...Atobe Keigo. Okay. Wow." Jackal was still giving her that funny look. "It sure is a small world..."

"What? You mean, you know him?" Isadora blinked. Now this was news to her... She'd thought he knew all of Jackal's friends, and she'd certainly never heard him mention any Atobe.

"Well, kind of." Jackal shrugged. "It's just... there's this one tennis team in Tokyo that often gives us trouble, Hyoutei. They took the second spot in Kantou last year, if you remember... Their captain has some kind of rivalry going on with Sanada. You probably don't remember him since he didn't personally play against us last year, we won at Singles Two, but they're about the same level. I've even heard Yukimura saying that around now, Sanada would lose." There was a pause. "That captain's name is Atobe Keigo."

"Really?" Now Isadora was the one whose eyes widened. "And... you think it might be the same person?"

"Well, unless there are two fifteen-year-old guys called Atobe Keigo in Tokyo wealthy enough to have a helicopter, it must be." Jackal looked at her in a scrutinising manner over the rim of his coffee cup. "...You sure this Atobe-san is a good guy? Because the Atobe I know of can be kind of a jerk from what I've heard."

"Oh, I'm sure it's all right." Isadora gave him a bright smile. "After all, I'm a wonderful person even though I have you for a son, right?"

"Oi!" Jackal frowned at her giggles, then smiled a bit. "So. How'd this 'just friends' turn into dating all of a sudden?"

"Well... I asked him why we were having all these dinners, and he told me it's dating if I want it to be. And, well, I told him yes."

"Convenient." And again the raised eyebrow, along with a tiny smirk. "You know, if Bunta was here, he'd ask what he's going to think of a girl who puts out on the first date."

"Jackal!" she huffed in a scandalized tone before smiling. "I'm sure he would... though I thought you were going to think we were simply talking." She chuckled at his slightly embarrassed look. "What can I say? Just because I didn't ask him until now doesn't mean this was our first date, really. And besides, I'm fairly sure by now he's not only seeing me for sex. He would have propositioned me sooner if that were the only thing on his mind." With a smirk, she added, "That, and he's awfully sexy for such a wealthy, handsome old devil. Totally worth it, too."

"You know the line for too much information? It went right there," Jackal groaned. "Especially since I'm now practically imagining him as... Atobe with wrinkles."

"Oh, there are no wrinkles," she chuckled. "Merely some lines that one would expect of a grown man. He's adult, not elderly."

"Good to know he's not the other Atobe's grandfather, at least. That'd be just creepy." Jackal rolled his eye before looking at her seriously. "So... you like him?"

"I'd think that's obvious," she said. "Yes, I do like him. And I plan on seeing him more in the future... as long as you don't have any objection."

"Why would I object?" asked Jackal. "You're my mother, not the other way around."

"Sometimes, I wonder," Isadora murmured, then added aloud, "It's just... it's not a given that children react well to their single parents starting to date again."

"I'm old enough to know that you won't forget about me just because there's another man in your life," Jackal replied dryly. "And, well... it's not like I'm getting Dad back in any case, regardless of your dating," he added with a sigh.

"...Indeed." Isadora smiled faintly, taking a sip of her coffee. "I still miss him, you know."

"I know. As do I." Jackal shook his head. "But... if you're happy seeing Atobe-san, I'm sure he'd be happy for you, too."

"I certainly hope so." Isadora reached her hand to pat Jackal's head. It really was a pity he had no hair to ruffle, she thought. "But, Atobe-san or no... you're still the most important man in my life. Which is why I'm glad you don't have anything against this."

"Mum!" Jackal protested, flushing a bit. "I'm not some little kid, you know."

"You'll always be a kid to me, you silly thing." After all, however strong and tall he might grow, he was still the same little boy who had asked her to put band-aids on his skinned knees.

Jackal seemed a bit embarrassed but didn't really try to protest anymore.

~S~

Though it had already been some time since they'd left the tennis club, it still felt somewhat strange coming home so relatively early, Atobe mused to himself as he stepped out of the car that had brought him home from school. Giving his school bag to one of the maids who immediately had gathered to welcome him home, he loosened his tie a bit as he dismissed the rest of them after making sure his dinner requests had reached the head cook and Beat had been taken to his trimming appointment as scheduled. Michael still lingered nearby, as Michael always did, falling into step just slightly behind him as he started striding down the corridors to head towards his room.

"There's still quite some time until dinner will be ready, Keigo-sama," Michael reminded him. "Were there any more requests you would like to make?"

"Ah, yes," Atobe said, just now remembering. "I'd like to eat in the northern dining room tonight." It'd been a while, and change was often a good thing, or so he had been assured. He still wasn't entirely convinced, try as he did to adjust to this new situation where half of his days were not spent in various activities involving tennis. Certainly, he still practised regularly and would have never even dreamed of forgoing his training, but even then, the lack of the school practices was rather notable in his day-to-day schedule. Guess it was one of the things you didn't really notice until it was gone, though he still would have never admitted to missing it. His life was much better without having to look after two hundred children on a regular basis, thank you very much.

"Ah, yes, about that – your father is home, Keigo-sama," Michael said, hurrying after him even as Atobe lengthened his strides almost without noticing. "He was rather hoping you'd join him for dinner in the western dining room."

"My father?" Atobe echoed, stopping in his tracks. "I wasn't even aware he was in Tokyo." Usually he was rather well informed beforehand whenever his father wanted to see him, not that it was often. The standard procedure was for them to agree on their next lunch or dinner meeting at the previous one, and far as he knew, they hadn't been scheduled for another meeting for a while yet. Such spontaneity was... very much unlike his father.

"Actually, he has been spending quite some time in Tokyo lately, Keigo-sama," Michael informed him, a slightly peculiar expression on his face as he said this. Atobe couldn't really even begin to interpret its meaning. "Apparently he has come to be of the opinion he shouldn't have to inform anyone when he happens to be home."

"Well, maybe he should have," murmured Atobe, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He felt a headache coming and blamed it on his father's sudden antics. "What if I had gone somewhere with my friends, or something?"

"Then that would be another matter entirely," Michael replied. "However, he informed me that if you were to dine at home tonight, he'd prefer if you did it in his company."

"Now isn't that strange," sighed Atobe. "He could have still given me some advance warning." He rolled his eyes. "Very well, I will meet him there. Is dinner at least at its usual time?"

"Of course, Keigo-sama. He does not wish to interfere with your usual schedule any more than is necessary."

Atobe huffed. "Then he should just leave me alone," he murmured under his breath, but refused to repeat it aloud even as Michael gave him a slightly puzzled expression. Since when had his father wanted much of anything to do with him, anyway? Keigo lived his own life and Akihito lived his. As long as he did well at school and didn't bring any undue shame to the family name he didn't see any reasons for his father to give him any trouble, be it in the form of sudden dinner invites or something else entirely. "...I'm going to lie down for a bit before dinner," he announced, ignoring Michael's slightly concerned glance. "Hopefully it will ease my headache a bit. I will join my father at the usual time, don't worry."

Then, not saying another word aside from dismissing the old butler for now, he sped up his steps to make his way to his room.

~S~

He really shouldn't have been quite this nervous, Akihito thought, chastising himself mentally as he found himself pacing along the sight of the western dining room. He quite preferred it over the other dining rooms in the mansion; at the usual dinner time, it had a beautiful light, and the colours of the decoration reminded him of the room they had most often used for meals back in England. Now even the familiar interior of the room couldn't exactly calm him, though, as he thought of what was ahead.

Michael had assured him that Keigo had promised to show up at the appointed time. That was just about the only comfort he could find for himself in this situation. He hadn't been exactly sure how to go about fixing what he hoped wasn't an entirely unsalvageable relationship with his son, but he was rather hoping that getting to know him better would be a good step forward from the current point. He had heard a lot about Keigo from Michael, yes; however, he was very well aware that it would probably be for the better to learn these things directly from his son. After all, if he didn't show any interest in Keigo so that the boy himself knew about it, he could have just as well shown no interest at all.

It wasn't like he'd never cared about Keigo before and had only now taken a sudden interest, no. Well aware as he was of his poor relationship with his only heir, he'd never been quite happy with it. However, things being as they were, he'd always rather thought it would be for the better if he didn't try to push himself into Keigo's life. Surely, at some point, his son would give some sign that he wanted Akihito to be more of a presence in his life. Until then, he had thought it better for the both of them to live their own lives without interfering too much with each other. After all, that was what Keigo was already used to.

However, if he never made himself present in Keigo's life, how could his son even have any need for him? After all, Akihito had rather efficiently made himself an unnecessary influence in his son's day-to-day routine. Raised as he had been by the various servants they'd employed, Keigo certainly had little want for a father's presence.

Akihito had told himself it was for the better. At least his son was independent and didn't need anyone to hold his hand. The time he'd spent with Isadora, however, had brought the issue up in some rather painful ways. It wasn't that he was happy with this current situation, no; he'd often thought back to the time when Keigo was little and would readily demand to be picked up and held, back when he had actually known what his son liked and wanted and wished. He had merely thought it was easier for them both. Watching Isadora talk about Jackal, however, about the importance the boy had in her life, though, he'd found himself truly feeling the pain of this voluntary separation. His son perhaps didn't need him, but he certainly needed his son.

Hopefully, this dinner would go well. Hopefully, he wouldn't somehow upset his son. Hopefully, everything would be all right, and perhaps he just might learn a thing or two about the finest thing he had ever accomplished, the one miracle he and his late wife had created together all those years ago.

Hopefully, tonight would at least reassure him that Keigo didn't absolutely hate him.


	6. Mistakes

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Konomi Takeshi does. I'm merely playing with them for the moment.

* * *

**In the Family**

_Chapter 6_

Mistakes_  
_

Keigo arrived in time. Of course he did. He had always been very punctual, not that Akihito would have known much beyond those dinners they occasionally had together, the ones where they would eat and talk and not remember a thing afterwards because neither of them had truly been listening. Now Keigo was as precise with his timing as ever, walking into the dining room just a few minutes before the dinner was to be served.

He really had grown tall, Akihito noticed, turning to look towards the door from where he had finally come to a calm from his slightly nervous pacing to glance out of the window for a change. Keigo was actually taller than him, now, a fine young man with a healthy build and an intelligent gaze. His eyes were blue as ever, the very same blue his mother's eyes had been when Akihito had first seen her, just as his hair was the exact same shade of sandy gold. Ignoring the wistful feeling this awakened in him, he instead nodded in greeting. "Good evening, son," he said. "I hope your day has gone well."

"Good afternoon, father," Keigo replied, his tone almost upsettingly formal as he nodded in return. "It has gone about as well as one can expect. Yours, too, I hope?"

"Just fine." It wasn't the way they should have talked, Akihito thought, inwardly mourning. They sounded more like formal acquaintances than a father and a son. Nevertheless, it was the only way they knew how to talk to each other. "Shall we get seated? Dinner should be here soon."

Keigo nodded, taking his seat at the already set table. Akihito took his, directly opposite to his son. "...I hope I didn't disrupt any plans of yours with this sudden request of mine," he then said.

Keigo seemed momentarily surprised before his expression turned neutral again. "Oh, not at all, aside from the location," Keigo replied. "I'd rather planned to eat in the northern dining room today, but that hardly matters overly much. However," he glanced at Akihito surprisingly sharply, "I do find myself wondering just why you would wish to meet me."

Akihito raised his eyebrows, hoping the feigned surprise was enough to disguise the little sting of guilt he felt at the question. "Why so?" he asked. "Certainly it is not that unusual for a father to wish to spend a moment with his son?"

"It is when said father is you," Keigo replied with a dry tone. "You haven't exactly suffocated me with your presence since I was a child."

"I know." Akihito looked at him seriously. "And I've come to think I may have made a mistake."

This coaxed another look of surprise from his son. "What do you mean?" he asked, sounding the slightest bit confused. "I thought it was not suitable of an Atobe to make any mistakes whatsoever."

Akihito hoped that was a joke. He certainly hoped. "Then obviously, I have disgraced my family name," he said even as a couple of maids entered with their dinner, serving it without any reaction from either of the men aside from brief nods of thanks before they retreated again. "I know this is probably somewhat surprising to you, Keigo... but I have come to realize that I have neglected you."

"Why would you say that?" Keigo raised his eyebrows, turning his eyes down at his meal. "You have acted in no way different than you have ever since I was five."

"I know. And that is precisely my reason for shame." Akihito shook his head. "It's not right, Keigo. A father shouldn't be like that to his son."

"I've found no cause to complain," Keigo replied. He seemed somewhat uncomfortable with the subject, not that it was ever easy to tell with Keigo. He probably just didn't know his son well enough, Akihito thought with another sting of conscience. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

Because I find myself suddenly dating a single mother with an excellent bond with her son. "Let's just say my eyes have been opened." As Keigo looked at him sharply, apparently requiring a bit more explanation than just that, he sighed. "There is a new business associate I find myself spending time with," he said. Technically, it was true; they had first met on job-related matters, after all. The spilled tea non-withstanding. "She has a son about your age, and has told me a lot about him... and I realized I could tell her little about you beyond your age and the fact that you have a dog."

"I'm rather surprised you knew even that much." Okay, that was definitely a glare he was now receiving.

"...I suppose I deserved that." Akihito sighed. "Look, Keigo... I should hope we both realize that our relationship is not exactly typical of a father and a son. I know it is my fault, and for that, I apologize. I merely ask that you give me a chance to attempt to repair what I have broken."

Keigo turned his gaze at his dinner again. "Aren't you rather too late at doing that?" he asked with a surprisingly quiet tone.

"Keigo..." Akihito lowered his fork halfway on the way to his mouth. "I know I am in the wrong here. I know I should have never let things come to this point. However, a fact is that they have. All I can ask is that you give me another chance."

"Why should I?" Keigo asked. "So you can then abandon me once again?"

"I should hope no such circumstances would come about again." Akihito shook his head. "I... after Elizabeth's passing, I..."

"After her death, you abandoned me." Keigo rather abruptly stood up. "You were depressed, fine. But the fact remains, you abandoned me." He took a step away from the table. "I didn't see you for ages... and when I finally did, you treated me like I was a stranger's child."

"Keigo," Akihito started to say, then fell silent. There wasn't much he could say to that, now was there. There were excuses he could have made, explanations he could have given, but none of that would change the fact that everything Keigo said was true. "...I'm sorry."

"Just saying that won't magically fix things." Keigo shook his head, blue eyes flashing, and suddenly he looked more like his mother than ever – when she had been annoyed at him. "...Do excuse me." And, with nothing else, he turned around and walked out of the room, leaving Akihito looking after him.

Sighing, Akihito looked down at his meal. Apparently, he had an even longer way to go than he had thought... and he hadn't even gotten the faint reassurance he had been hoping for.

It certainly seemed that his son hated him.

~S~

Well though he had been raised, Keigo did not have enough class not to slam the door to his room shut as he stormed in. He was rather sure he had startled quite a few servants on his way there, but frankly, he couldn't bring himself to care. So he was upset, big damn deal. If anyone had any complaints they could take it up with his father.

He couldn't believe the man. Did he really think he could just suddenly show up after nine years and claim to want to fix the trouble he had caused. As though one apology could fix all that.

Not that he was thoroughly traumatized or anything, of course. He wasn't quite that weak, after all. However, he could still admit that he had been quite upset to find both his parents abandoning him at once. His mother could not have helped it, naturally; she had hardly chosen to die, after all. But his father...

It was probably just his imagination, something his mind had made up; after all, it was hardly plausible that he would remember things so vividly from such a long time ago. However, the memory still plagued him, the memory of going to his father, trying to take a hold of his hand... and his father sending him back to his nanny. He hadn't tried again since, as his memory served.

It was rather too long a time to take a hold of a hand.

Pitifully dramatic or not, Keigo still found himself lying on his bed, face buried in his pillow. Why did that idiotic man have to bring up such things? It'd have been infinitely easier if they had both just forgotten about it... They had lived on just fine until now, hadn't they? Why fix something that wasn't broken?

He didn't even react at first as he heard a knock on his door. Whoever it was, he didn't want to see them. However, as the sound persisted, he finally turned his head towards the door. "What is it?" he snapped.

"It is me, Keigo-sama," he heard Michael's voice through the door. "I brought you dessert."

Dessert. Now that definitely reminded him that his dinner had been cut short. And now that he thought about it, he was still quite hungry... it was all his father's fault, of course, but just feeling spiteful didn't exactly fill his stomach. "...Come in."

A moment later, the door was opened, and the old butler walked in with a tray. He walked over to the other end of the room, setting the tray down on the table before the couch. "Your dessert, Keigo-sama."

"...Thank you." Keigo sat up on his bed, then got up, walking over. There was tea on the tray, he noticed, hot tea and a large slice of chocolate cake. "That looks delicious."

"Indeed." Michael looked on as Keigo sat down and took the plate. "Your father told me to bring it."

Keigo froze with the first spoonful almost in his mouth. "...My father?"

"Yes. He was quite concerned since you didn't get much to eat, and seemed to remember that you often enjoy dessert." Michael's tone softened a bit as he added, "He means well, Keigo-sama."

"Well, he shouldn't." Keigo glared at the piece of cake for a moment before finally bringing the spoon to his mouth. Just because the man was an idiot didn't mean there was anything wrong with the cake. "Just what does he imagine he's doing?"

"I have talked with him a lot recently," Michael said. "I do believe he is sincere in his attempts to connect with you."

"Then why now?" Keigo asked, sounding perhaps more bitter than he had meant to. "Where was that sincerity back when I actually needed him?" Because he didn't need his father now. Not anymore. He wanted to be left alone, thank you very much.

"Matters are not always as simple as they may seem, Keigo-sama." Michael sighed. "As you probably understand, your father was rather depressed after your mother's death."

"And it took him this long to get over that?" Keigo asked sharply. "A bit too long, I'd say."

"No, it's not that at all. However, when he did feel ready to take on the responsibility of caring for you... he felt you had distanced yourself from him, rather relying on myself and your other caretakers." He shook his head slowly. "He figured it was for the better not to try to tear you away from the people you had gotten so attached to."

"That idiot." Keigo was now rather vicious in his task of decimating the cake piece by piece. "He didn't ever think what it felt like for me to be left alone by both my mother and my father?"

"I'm sure he didn't mean to hurt you in such a manner, Keigo-sama." Michael moved towards the table again, taking the teapot to pour him a cup. "He merely wanted your best... and when he finally realized his mistake, he no more had any idea as to how to approach you. It's not until now that he has managed to realize that fixing his relationship with you would be worth the difficulties involved."

"Well, I don't need him," Keigo said moodily as he reached for the cup. The tea was hot and sweet, just as he liked it. "I'm perfectly fine without him, thank you very much. Parental presence only means rules and curfews and keeping track of my every step."

Now, Michael actually raised his eyebrows. "With all due respect, Keigo-sama... if you felt that indifferent about the matter, would you be quite this upset about it?"

"I was upset when I was five," Keigo insisted. "By now, I frankly don't care."

"You stormed out in the middle of dinner, as I understood, Keigo-sama," Michael said, patient as ever. "Pardon me if I say this, but that does sound somewhat upset to me."

"It's my father's fault," Keigo announced. "He shouldn't have tried to bring up such subjects."

"I'm sure his intention was not to cause you any distress." The old butler shook his head again. "As I said, I believe his intentions are sincere. I would humbly request that you give him another chance."

"...I'm not a toy, Michael," Keigo said quietly, not looking up. "I'm not something he can just pick up when he feels like it and then cast away when he's not interested anymore. So his business associate has made him feel paternal, big deal. And when that is over with, what then?" He glared at his cup of tea as though it were his father instead. "Do forgive me if I'm not giving him the chance to abandon me again."

"I'm convinced it's not merely a short-lived interest, Keigo-sama," Michael said quietly. "Rather, his eyes have been opened to his past mistakes. And besides, the circumstances surrounding his last failure were quite extraordinary, if I may say so."

That was what his father had said, too, wasn't it? About his mother's death... "Just because he doesn't have another wife to lose doesn't mean he's magically become a good father, Michael."

"He was a good father when you were a child, Keigo-sama."

"He was a good father for a four-year-old, Michael. I am almost fifteen." Keigo shook his head. "I don't exactly need bedtime stories read to me anymore."

"Then give him a chance to learn what you need from him now." Keigo had known Michael all his life. However, he didn't know if he'd ever seen the butler looking so... pleading, almost.

"...Fine." He sighed. "I'll give him a chance... if you say so." Keigo grimaced. "But if he messes up again..."

"I'm sure one more chance is all he wishes for, Keigo-sama." And now, Michael smiled.

"...Come to think of it, I don't recall requesting chocolate cake." Not that he was complaining, but he did remember his dessert request being different.

"As I said... your father told me to bring it." Michael was still smiling. "He recalled it to have been one of your favourites. Apparently you have often favoured it when dining together with him."

"...His being right won't make me forgive him, you know." Keigo raised his eyebrows. "And it's not my absolute favourite, either."

But maybe for now, he could let it pass.


	7. Gifts

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Konomi Takeshi does. I'm merely playing with them for the moment.

A/N: No ghosts involved, worry not. Also probably obvious, but the letter is in English. (As is most of what Keigo and sometimes Akihito speak with Michael in private, though I usually don't make a mention of it.)

* * *

**In the Family**

_Chapter 7_

Gifts_  
_

"Not that I'm complaining, but I'm really pretty surprised," Shishido admitted, leaning back even as he reached his hand into the bowl of crisps Ootori was currently holding. "I thought you'd have another grand party just to make sure everyone knows it's your birthday."

"Just didn't feel like it," Atobe replied nonchalantly, giving Jirou a glare for trying to reach into his candy bowl. Jirou had his own, damn it. "I'd prefer to think that anyone who is celebrating my birthday does so because they actually give a damn."

He'd invited all of his former regular teammates over for a birthday party that was almost too typical for a teenager to be his. They had gone laser shooting, where Atobe had naturally been the true paragon of marksmanship, Jirou had been surprisingly awake, Gakuto had broken every single rule there was about moving about the area, and Shishido had cost his team the victory because he hadn't had the heart to shoot at Ootori only to have his darling kouhai virtually slaughter him point blank. The music had been too loud and the paint job on the walls too messy for Atobe's tastes, but he had to admit he had enjoyed it in some strange, twisted way.

Now they were all lying about his room, the armchairs and couches rearranged and taken over as they watched a movie and utterly spoiled their appetite with snacks while waiting for the chef to be done with Atobe's favourite dinner. Atobe himself had taken over half of the most comfortable couch at the ideal angle to the TV screen, though he'd been forced to relinquish some of his claim as Jirou had flopped down practically on top of his legs, no permission asked. And now Shishido had to go and spoil the perfect moment by bringing up something that idiotic.

"Now isn't that something," Oshitari chuckled. "What d'you mean, isn't your birthday the day of utmost glory to everyone?"

"Shut up," Atobe growled, tossing a candy at Oshitari. What a waste. The stupid tensai should have just been quiet.

"Is something wrong, Atobe-senpai?" Ootori asked, frowning at him from over where he and Shishido were sharing a loveseat. Now wasn't there the most appropriate arrangement. "You don't seem pretty happy even though it's your birthday…"

"Do forgive ore-sama," Atobe murmured. "I do swear I am quite enjoying myself. I merely find myself rather puzzled by my father's behaviour."

"Your father?" Gakuto's eyebrows flew high. "Didn't you say he doesn't interfere with your life at all?"

"That's precisely the problem." Atobe rolled his eyes. "Apparently he's suddenly realized he's been neglecting me and wants to make it all up to me."

"But isn't that nice?" Jirou asked, yawning a bit. Atobe was quite surprised he was still awake; usually physical activity wore him out rather quickly. Must have been all the sugar. "You should be happy, Atobe! Aren't you glad your father is finally paying attention to you?"

"Not when he's so damn awkward about it." Atobe sighed. "Never mind damn late. I might have appreciated it when I was five. By now I can do very well without him."

"Then why are you so glum?" Gakuto frowned. "Don't let him spoil your birthday!"

"…For once in your life, you're right." Atobe chuckled, then ducked his head just in time to dodge the decorative pillow Gakuto threw at him, his hand catching it. "Now, now… let us all concentrate on the movie instead."

"You're the one who got all depressed on us," Shishido pointed out. Quite wrongly, of course. Atobe had been acting perfectly normally until they had to dig up unpleasant things.

"You're the one who started the conversation," Atobe thus corrected him. After all, it was true.

"Not my fault if you're such a bloody pouting princess sometimes."

Obviously, as anyone would have agreed, Shishido most certainly deserved to have the pillow thrown at him in turn.

*

Despite the constant bickering and smart-aleck comments and just the general disagreement that was so typical of his team, Atobe had to say he enjoyed his little party immensely. It was somewhat refreshing to be together with the regular team again; while it hadn't been quite that long since they had left the club, even a short time certainly seemed like forever when something that had been an almost daily habit suddenly just disappeared from his schedule.

However, a party must end and the guests must go before long. As he finally had bidden goodbye to Kabaji, whom he would have asked to stay over if he hadn't known Kabaji still had to finish his homework for the next day, Atobe wandered down the corridor without any particular goal in mind. He didn't feel like going to sleep; it wasn't even nearly his usual sleeping time, after all. At the same time, he just felt oddly… empty. Which made obviously no sense at all. There was nothing he was lacking, after all.

"Keigo-sama."

Startled, Atobe turned to look at his side. "Michael!" he exclaimed. Truly, the old butler had the oddest ability to appear out of nowhere. "You gave me a fright."

"Do forgive me, Keigo-sama." Michael's lips twitched just a bit. "Would you be so kind as to follow me?"

Somewhat puzzled, Atobe did as told, quietly hoping his father wasn't behind this. He wasn't sure he could deal with the man right now.

They came to a stop in front of the music room door. A bit confused, Atobe glanced at Michael. The butler smiled. "There is something inside your father wants you to see, Keigo-sama."

Well. He should have known the man had something to do with this. His lips curling downwards, Atobe nevertheless set his hand on the doorknob. Whatever his opinion might have been of his father and his meddling, he didn't want to upset Michael, not on his birthday of all days.

Opening the door, Atobe glanced inside. Then, he was left staring. "That is…"

"Your mother's old piano," Michael finished for him. "Your father had it brought here from England especially for you. It was tuned just today while you were out with your friends."

Atobe hardly even heard what was being said, slowly walking into the room. He loved that piano. He always had, ever since he'd been a child and heard his mother playing on it. That had been what had made him take up playing. When they had moved from England, he had missed this piano more than any actual person. His new one was more than adequate for his needs, certainly, but it just wasn't the same.

And now his mother's piano was here.

Slowly walking up to the instrument, Atobe lifted the fall, revealing the familiar row of keys. Settling one hand over it, he slowly pressed down the keys. The tune was indeed perfect.

"…Keigo-sama." Startled out of his thoughts, Atobe realized he didn't even know how long Michael had been trying to get his attention. All he knew was that the butler was suddenly standing before him, something that looked like a parcel in his hands.

"What's that?" Atobe asked, blinking. "…From my father as well?"

"Actually, no." Michael shook his head slowly. "This was given to me a while ago, with the instructions that you were to receive it on your fifteenth birthday." He paused momentarily. "It's from your mother."

"From… mother?" Atobe echoed, his eyes turning to the parcel. He was barely even conscious of extending his hands to accept it, eyes busy tracing the wrapping, the perfectly tied ribbon, everything. Michael had kept this safe for so long…

"Happy birthday, Keigo-sama," Michael said softly, then bowed briefly before turning to go out of the room. "And… your father wishes you a happy birthday as well."

Atobe didn't really even hear him as he slowly sat himself on the piano stool, setting the gift in his lap.

It was almost painful to actually open the packet, thinking of his mother putting it together for him all those years ago, but he could hardly just leave it closed. Carefully he untied the bow, folding the ribbon neatly before he set it aside on the piano's keyboard. Next came the wrapping paper, carefully easing away the pieces of tape long since losing their strength to time, fingers carefully moving over the delicate paper bearing a lovely blue pattern. His mother had always loved blue. At least, that was what he remembered.

Folding the paper just as methodically as he had the ribbon, he set it aside as well before looking at the contents. It was a simple storage box, covered with a fine fabric that was soft under his fingers. After a moment of following the weave of the fabric with his fingertips, he finally managed to bring himself to open the lid. There were various objects in the box, all of them strange but oddly familiar as well. Picking up a small jewellery box tucked away in the corner of the box, he opened it to see two sapphire earrings. He remembered them being his favourites; he'd always loved it when his mother had chosen to wear them. They just were so very beautiful… And now they were here. They were here, keepsakes from his mother, sent to him from so long ago.

Forcing himself to close the jewellery box, he set it back in the box. There was a folded piece of paper tucked away behind the other things, he noted, picking it up. Folded in three parts, the old paper appeared to be a letter, his name written over it in what he could only suppose was his mother's handwriting.

With slightly shaking hands, he unfolded the letter. It was written in the same beautiful, neat handwriting, the lines thin and fine as though just about to fly off the page. Raising the letter closer, he could catch the faint scent of perfume he only barely remembered. Just that faint little whiff of scent, though, brought so many memories to his mind, memories of his mother's hand petting his hair and her soft voice as she told her stories. She had never needed a book for stories. All the best ones had been inside her head.

The letter was dated the day before his fifth birthday. Drawing a deep breath, he started reading it.

_"Dear Keigo,_

_Right now, you are asleep next to me, curled up with your teddy bear. You wanted to wait with me until midnight so I could tell you happy birthday right as the day changes, but apparently you aren't quite that big a boy just yet. Of course I'll still say it, but you can't hear it in your sleep._

_There are so many things I wish I could tell you that I can't. There are a lot of things you wouldn't understand, and a lot of things I don't understand, too. I hope by the time you read this, you'll be a little more ready to understand._

_I hope I'm timing this right. I have no way of knowing if you'd have liked to read this earlier, or if you don't feel ready yet. I hope you'll forgive me for this imperfection, though; I'm hardly a fortune teller. If I were, I'd have told you even more often that I love you._

_For when you finally do read this – I love you, Keigo. You're the most precious thing to me in the world. My fate doesn't make me mourn as much because I will die as it does because I can't spend more time with you. I wish I could see you celebrating many more birthdays, I wish I could tsk at you growing out of your clothes, I wish I could giggle and protest the day I realize you've grown taller than your poor old mother. I wish I could see you going to middle school, high school, university, I wish I could see you graduate and start a life of your own, whatever you end up doing in your life._

_It's strange, thinking of all the things I'll never do. I'll never fight with you about curfews or homework or girlfriends, I'll never be able to embarrass you in front of your sweetheart, I'll never see you marry or hold a grandchild of my very own. I'll never have to suffer through your teenage rebellion or worry when you're late in coming home. I'll never comfort you or give you advice when you've fought with your beloved. There are so many things I'll never do, things that seem so distant now as I look at you curling up with your teddy bear but that might be much nearer to you as you finally read this. Though I'll never do such things, I hope you know I will still be there._

_As you grow up, I won't be there to tell you what I think or feel, so I want to tell it to you here. I might not always understand your choices and actions. I might not even always approve. Even then, know that I'll always love you, no matter what you do and what you become._

_Sometimes I wonder why this had to happen to me of all people. I wonder why I have to leave behind such a lovely husband and lovely, smart, strong little son. But perhaps it is just that. You are strong, Keigo, I can tell even now as you're but a child. I know you'll grow up just fine even without me there. I'm sure that now at fifteen you're a wonderful young man I could be proud of, and you'll grow up to be an even greater man some day._

_I'm sure you'll do great whatever you choose to do in your life. Don't think you have to aim too high just to make us proud; don't be afraid to aim high because you fear failure, either. Whatever you choose to do in your life, do it with pride and confidence, and I'm sure you'll succeed. I know some people wish for their children to become lawyers or doctors or for them to take over the family company. I'll never see you do any of those things, but it wouldn't matter to me either way. All I wish is that you choose the path that makes you happy, because when you are happy, I am happy, too, even if I'm not physically there to share your joy._

_I know you'll have to make a lot of difficult decisions, perhaps more so than most young boys. I wish I could be there to help you and give you advice. All I can do, though, is say just this: When you're facing a decision, always choose for yourself, not according to anyone else's expectations. Family name and reputation are important, but nowhere as important as your own happiness. Even if others disapprove, as long as you know it makes you happy, you have my blessing. (Though if you ever decided that yodelling naked in the middle of Trafalgar Square makes you happy, I might rethink this declaration.)_

_I've been thinking about death a lot lately, and about what I believe, and what Akihito believes, and what you might one day believe. If any of what I have been taught is true, I want to become your angel. If I can't be by your side in life, I want to at least watch over you. If ever some misfortune befalls you, don't think I've forgotten you; just believe it will make you stronger, just as I'm sure you'll be stronger for my leaving you now._

_I'd give anything to stay with you, Keigo. I've prayed and begged, but by now I know it cannot happen. I don't know why God would take me now, but I do believe it's for that very reason – to make you stronger in the face of any future adversaries. You're already such a brave little boy, Keigo, such a brave little boy I sometimes wish you'd cry more so I wouldn't feel so bad for all the tears I shed._

_As I write this, you're too young to understand death. I don't think even I fully understand it. However, I will find out all the answers soon enough. For what it's worth, I want you to know, however belatedly, that I'm not afraid to die. I'm sad to go, yes, but I'm not afraid. I can't be afraid because I need to be just as brave as you are. I know you will be brave, both for yourself and your father._

_Wherever your life leads you, I hope you'll always be my brave, proud little son. I hope you'll always know how precious you are, and how very much you are loved. And I hope that you know that even as you wake up with your teddy bear, that even as you go to your fifth birthday breakfast and even as you grow up and go out into the world to conquer it all to yourself, I'll always be with you._

_Always._

_Happy birthday, Keigo._

_Loving you always,  
Elizabeth Atobe,  
Your mother"_

Atobe didn't truly realize he was crying until a tear dropped down on the edge of the letter. Somewhat hastily he raised a hand to rub away the tears even as his eyes lingered on the neat lines of text. He tried to think of his mother, of what she must have looked like sitting next to him on her bed, writing the letter for him to read later. He was somewhat startled to realize he only knew her from pictures, anymore.

After taking a moment to collect himself, he turned his eyes to the other things in the box. They were various things that awakened faint memories in him, ranging from something as ordinary and trivial as a pen to something as intricate and valuable as the earrings he had discovered earlier. However, they were all things from his mother, things that he could almost remember himself seeing and hearing and feeling as a child.

There were some more papers on the bottom of the box. Curious, he moved aside enough objects to be able to draw the sheets out.

"Keigo's Lullaby," was all the cover said, that and his mother's name. Looking inside, he saw sheet music, hand-written neatly on pre-printed lines, his mother's handwriting clear in the simple lyrics written underneath. A brief glance was enough to bring to his mind a distant melody, repeating over and over again as he wouldn't go to sleep so easily.

Turning to set the box on the floor, he took the ribbon and wrapping paper away from the keyboard, settling them neatly into the box before putting the sheets up on the music rack.

*

"You're not going inside, Akihito-sama?" Michael's voice was quiet, not wanting to startle the boy inside the room.

There was no response to his words. The man before him merely stood there, lightly leaning against the wall, eyes closed as he listened to the music pouring out of the narrow opening of the door set ajar. He listened as fingers traced over notes the ear knew but the hands were not trained to, stumbled over a particularly tricky chord, went back a bit, then finally reached the end and started all over again. His head was slowly nodding in tune to the melody, one that he knew very well.

Finally, Michael simply bowed and walked away, still making sure to stay silent.

He knew better than to interrupt time shared by two parents and their son.


	8. Terms

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Konomi Takeshi does. I'm merely playing with them for the moment.

A/N: These two are strange. ...For the record, Akihito and Keigo may speak either Japanese or English to each other, depending mainly on their mood and whether one or the other is trying to make a point of it. In this chapter, it's Japanese.

* * *

**In the Family**

_Chapter 8  
_

Terms_  
_

"Well, good afternoon." Akihito looked over to his son, raising his eyebrows. Keigo had just stormed into the manor's big library, looking rather… upset, to say the least. "You don't look too pleased."

"You could say that," murmured his son, running a hand through his golden locks. He was halfway in his strides to the far shelves as he suddenly paused, turning to look at Akihito. "…Wait. You're here."

"I should hope I am allowed to be in my own library, yes," Akihito raised his eyebrows. "Is that a problem?" He had to admit he'd lately been consciously spending more time off work, splitting the spare time between Isadora and his home. And, he dared hope, maybe with Keigo on occasion. Assuming the boy was willing to forgive him…

Keigo looked for a moment as though he was thinking of a way to answer. Finally, he just shook his head. "…No. I… I guess not."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that." Akihito slipped a bookmark between his book before snapping it shut. "Ah… would you like to talk?"

"Must I?" came the response immediately. Then, after a pause, Keigo sighed, changing his course and taking a couple of strides to reach one of the vacant seats in the room instead. "…Do forgive me… I suppose I did promise Michael to give you a chance," he mumbled.

"Thank you," Akihito said sincerely. "What exactly has you so vexed? I rarely see you this angry." Well, he rarely saw Keigo anyway, but that was beside the point. "At the very least, it's usually me in the receiving end of such rage."

"My grandparents called to tell me happy birthday," Keigo sighed, tucking one foot under himself even as he flopped back in the seat. "Happy belated birthday, that is." With a sharp gaze in Akihito's direction, he added, "Your parents, to be precise."

Akihito sighed. "I see." His parents had never truly approved of his marriage with Elizabeth, and as a result, their relations with Keigo had always been somewhat tense as well. Even he knew that Keigo didn't get along with them, especially with his grandfather, and for Akihito to be aware of it the tension had to be rather obvious. "…Dare I ask what they said?"

"Just asked me when I'm going to find myself a properly raised Japanese girl that they could meet," murmured Keigo, turning his eyes away. "Grandfather warned me not to end up like… like you."

"At least I have been married, once," Akihito pointed out. And was now apparently dating again, but he doubted this was the time and place to approach that particular subject. "What did you answer?"

"The same I always do. I'm in no particular hurry to find a girlfriend. I have far too much in my hands as it is between tennis and my schoolwork and everything; I hardly see any reason to compromise my preciously rare spare time any further by involving myself with something as useless as a girlfriend." After a short pause, Keigo glanced briefly at him. "…And that answer applies to any of your questions, too. It's not just a grandparent buffer."

"I see." He couldn't help but feel his lips twitching a bit. "I'm sure you'll sooner or later see the appeal of dating. It… kind of comes naturally, or so I've been told." And at fifteen, Keigo probably didn't have much of a grace period left anymore.

"God, I hope not." Keigo rolled his eyes. "Girls are just plain useless. They do nothing but blush and titter and squeal."

"Yes, well, just you wait." Akihito shook his head amusedly. "Soon you'll notice they also play with their hair, and smile rather prettily, and walk in a peculiar manner you just can't help but look at."

"Hopefully someone will shoot me if I ever fall into that trap." Keigo's eyes fell on a painting set on the wall of the library. It was one of the main reasons Akihito preferred to do his reading there instead of taking a book somewhere with him. Elizabeth looked so very beautiful in the portrait, her beauty immortalized in the setting of a lovely summer day in her favourite corner of the garden in England. When they had moved to Japan, there hadn't been many things Akihito had had brought over aside from the better part of the book collection; this portrait, however, absolutely had to follow him. Even if it had been years, even if he now found himself falling in love with another woman, he still couldn't push himself into entirely forgetting his first wife. "…Father?"

"Yes?" Akihito asked. He had an inkling as to what Keigo was about to say, but he didn't want to push it.

"How…" Keigo swallowed. "How did you and Mother first meet?" It sounded slightly peculiar, the one word of English in the middle of the otherwise Japanese sentence, but he supposed it made sense. After all, Keigo had only ever spoken to his mother in English; that word was the way he had called her when she had been alive.

"We first met in university," Akihito said slowly, his eyes locked at the painting. "My father sent me overseas to further my education... she was in the year below me. We had the same literature class." He shook his head, a slight smile on his lips. "It was... love at first sight, one might say. She was just a lovely woman in every way. Smart, beautiful, confident... I knew right then I had to get her, somehow." He smiled faintly, momentarily lost in the memories. "She had the most beautiful blue eyes..."

"I... see." Keigo nodded slowly. "...Did she like you at first sight, too?"

"I like to think so," Akihito chuckled. "Who knows? She was rather coy when I started approaching her, though thinking back, I'm fairly sure she was just teasing me. In any case, she slowly started to warm up to me. Of course, neither of our parents would hear of anything but the greatest propriety, so we waited nicely until we were both done with our studies before even getting engaged, never mind married."

"What did grandfather say about her?" Keigo asked. "I mean... I've heard his woe over my resembling her often enough, but other than that, he never wants to discuss her. You can't exactly tell me he was happy and excited for you finding your true love."

"Too true." Akihito sighed. "My parents were... greatly opposed, actually. They wouldn't hear of me marrying a gaijin... they'd have much preferred to find me a proper, humble Japanese wife with a sufficient inheritance attached," he added with a dry tone. "Their mistake is... they always taught me that an Atobe must always have his way. That when I got my mind set on something, I should let nothing and nobody hinder me in reaching my goal. Apparently they never thought I might actually use that attitude against them," he murmured.

"But of course," Keigo replied equally dryly. "It is most unimaginable that anything would go against their will and preferences."

"...Keigo." Finally, Akihito actually looked at his son again, standing up to walk slowly towards his son. Keigo gave him a slightly wary gaze but didn't flinch away. Well, he supposed that was a victory, however small a triumph it might have been. "I know my parents can be difficult. I grew up dealing with them, after all. And I know they can be rather set on their ways in a very frustrating manner sometimes. But... don't let that get to you." He shook his head seriously. "They're certainly not evil people, exactly... but they can sometimes be hypocritical, racist bigots. Whatever they say about your mother, or yourself in relation to her... don't listen to them." He smiled faintly, again glancing at the picture. "Your mother... she was a beautiful woman. A beautiful, capable, intelligent woman who died far too soon, and you have inherited all of her best traits. If that doesn't please your grandparents... well, that's not something you should trouble yourself with. Either they come around eventually... or they are the ones who lose."

"Careful, there," Keigo mumbled. "I might do the same thing you did and pull something absolutely disgraceful in your eyes."

"Perhaps," Akihito replied lightly. "However, if it ever comes down to my opinion against yours... I think more important than following my values is for you to figure out your own." He patted Keigo's shoulder, secretly almost pathetically pleased as the boy didn't immediately pull away. "Always remember to respect yourself and others... and always make sure you can afterwards say, 'I made the right decision.'"

This gained him a wry smile. "Is this the part where you tell me about birds and bees?" Keigo asked.

"Is there a need for me to?" Akihito shot back. It actually was something that had crossed his mind sometimes. After all, Keigo was a teenage boy. Akihito had been one himself, in a time much less liberated about such things. He would have had to be incredibly naive to think it was not a subject he should concern himself with in regards to his son.

"I should hope not." Keigo shook his head fervently. "I know what goes where, how not to get either diseases or bastards and all the rest of such profoundly important matters. Going through them once more would just embarrass us both needlessly… especially since I already told you I have absolutely no interest in dating at this time."

"Perhaps it's better that way," Akihito admitted. "I really wouldn't know how to approach such a topic." He chuckled faintly. "You were unplanned, you know," he murmured. "Unplanned but not unwished for. I know it's something of a cliché, but it was very much true in your case. We hadn't thought about having a child just yet, but then you decided to be on your way so we welcomed you." He could still remember it, the surprise, the initial panic, all that waiting and planning and preparing and hoping... wondering if they could be good parents. "We thought we might get you a younger sibling at some point," he murmured. "We were going to wait until you were at school, perhaps, so you might have been more reasonable about sibling rivalry. But then..." he trailed off. Even after all these years, it was... not a subject he particularly enjoyed.

"But then Mother fell ill," Keigo finished quietly for him. "I... remember."

"Do you really?" Akihito asked. "I've often wondered, you know… you were so small when… everything happened. So young. Do you really remember her?"

"Very little, I'm afraid." Keigo sighed. "I remember the scent of her favourite perfume… and how she ruffled my hair when I climbed into her lap." He paused. "I remember standing and wondering why she would go to sleep under the ground and why everyone kept saying she couldn't come to me if she really loved me so much."

"…Keigo." Akihito sighed. He wasn't sure if he'd ever seen his son looking quite so… vulnerable. Certainly not in years, now. "I can't even imagine how that must have been…"

"Nah. That was the easy part," murmured his son. "Mamalie told me that when someone goes to Heaven, they can't come back however much they want to." He threw Akihito a sharp glance before adding, "What I really couldn't understand why my daddy couldn't be with me despite being right there, not somewhere up in the heavens."

"…I am sorry." Akihito lowered his eyes. Their conversations all seemed to lead to this point… but then, he did suppose it couldn't be helped. Obviously, this was a major obstacle to his having a normal relationship with his son. "If there is anything I can do to make up for it…"

"After ten years?" Keigo chuckled humourlessly. "Well, I can tell you a lollipop isn't going to cheer me up anymore."

"Then tell me what will." Akihito crouched down, uncaring about the wrinkles he was surely putting into his suit as he leant an elbow on the armrest of Keigo's chair. "I mean it, Keigo. I want to be a good father to you… but I can only do that if you let me." He looked at his son seriously. "So… tell me about yourself. Tell me about you like and dislike, and what you do with your time, and… and what I can do to be a part of your life."

"…Sure." Keigo glanced at him. "But, only if you answer a question from me first."

"Of course." Akihito frowned but nodded. He'd rather thought Keigo didn't want anything to do with him; what could there be for the boy to be curious about?

"Well… this morning, when I was getting ready for school, I heard a couple of the maids gossiping." Keigo paused. "About you."

"That is certainly nothing overly unique, I wouldn't think." Akihito found a smirk curling his lips. He might have defied his parents' traditional ways, but he was still every bit an Atobe. "Gossiping about the master of the house is a common pastime among the hired help, or so I've come to understand."

"That is rather my understanding, too… but it was the subject of their conversation that rather caught my attention." Eyebrows raised, Keigo was wearing a rather similar smirk as he looked at Akihito. "Apparently, the word is out that you have found yourself a lady friend."

"…Ah." Akihito blinked. Well. He probably should have expected that, but somehow… he hadn't. Certainly, he had known that Keigo would find out sooner or later, but… this was most certainly not the ideal manner. "I, well… that might not be entirely untrue." Then, it was almost impossible to stop gossip from spreading… especially when you were constantly surrounded by people, like he was. If no one else, the chauffeurs would know, as well as the security.

"…I see." Keigo's eyes flipped back towards the portrait of Elizabeth. "…And does this have anything to do with your suddenly awakened paternal feelings?"

"Only… indirectly." Akihito sighed. "Remember when I mentioned something about a co-worker talking about her son? Well, that would be the object of my interests."

"So you're aiming to be a better father to get her approval." Suddenly, Keigo's voice was very cold.

"No! No. No, that's not it." But how could he convince Keigo of it? "As I already told you… our conversations have merely made me realize the mistakes I've made. And I want to fix what I have broken, Keigo. I want to fix our family… what little there is of it."

For a moment, Keigo was quiet. Then, finally, he sighed. "I suppose… I'll just have to take your word for that." He stood up, Akihito's eyes trailing after him as he walked to the part of the shelves with plays. "I will give you a chance," he said, picking out a book from the shelf. "For Michael's sake, and for mother's sake. And I suppose it's none of my business what you do in regards to your love life, as long as it doesn't directly impact me."

"Sounds fair enough." Akihito nodded, standing up. "…If it becomes serious enough to have an impact on you, I will be sure to let you know." He… rather hoped it might. Isadora really was a most lovely woman. If there indeed was such a thing as love at first sight, he was hopeful enough to assume he just might have been given that particular blessing… twice in one lifetime, even.

"I would rather appreciate that." Keigo raised his eyebrows again. "So. What are your terms?"

Akihito did not need to ask what exactly Keigo meant. In at least some matters, their minds worked rather similarly. "At least three shared meals and one other social event a week," he said quickly. "For a beginning, in any case. It shouldn't impede either of our schedules overly much, but should also give us ample opportunities to actually get to know each other."

"Sounds reasonable." Keigo's lips twitched just a bit at the corners. "I might point out that when high school starts and I'm back to my usual training schedule, my mealtimes may be occasionally rather unorthodox, but then I should hope by that time we've already established further arrangements." Assuming this one didn't go to Hell before it. "What do you mean by 'social events'?"

"That would depend." Akihito shrugged. He supposed most people didn't handle spending time with their family like it were a business contract, but then it seemed to suit them both well enough. "Anything either of us enjoys. Concerts, perhaps theatre," he nodded towards the book Keigo was slowly flipping through, apparently searching for something, "occasionally sports. I mean, I wouldn't dream of facing you on the tennis courts, but I can ride a horse, and I suppose we are both rusty enough in fencing for it to be a roughly equal effort."

Keigo… actually laughed, at that. "Trust me, you do not want to face me on the courts," he said, smirking rather smugly. It was a peculiar expression, mainly reflecting Akihito's own self-satisfied smirks sometimes with just a hint of Elizabeth's most charming triumphant smiles. "Not unless you enjoy humiliation… or have somehow been hiding a pro career from me."

"Sadly, no." Akihito shrugged. "Of course, mere conversation would be an acceptable substitute for other activities on occasion, though I would suppose we both would prefer more stimulation than merely each other's company."

"You would be correct on that." Setting his finger on what apparently was the correct page, Keigo let the book fall almost shut, glancing at him. "And what do I get out of this?"

"A father," Akihito replied, then chuckled as Keigo merely raised his eyebrows again. "I also heard from the property manager you were talking about an indoor pool," he said. "I'm sure I would be able to find the space for one."

Keigo nodded. "I don't suppose you could help me acquiring a full pilot's license for the helicopter?" he asked lightly. "It is rather bothersome to always have to have another pilot with me."

"I'm afraid it's a legal matter, not something dependant on my approval," Akihito pointed out. "You simply aren't old enough yet. But I can get you a motorcycle."

"That's another age-dependant one, though," Keigo shot back. "I won't be sixteen for another year yet."

"Should give you ample time to find the perfect one, then." Akihito smiled, resisting the urge to shake his head. Helicopter! When he'd been young, he'd been perfectly content to wait anxiously until he got to drive a car. "If we were still in England, you couldn't drive one until you were seventeen."

"If we were in England, I could drive a car when I'm seventeen," Keigo replied dryly, opening the book again. "…Dinner today, to start off? I have no particular plans for the rest of the day."

"Sounds adequate." Akihito nodded. He was going to assume Keigo's suggestion also served as an agreement to his terms. "Bring your calendar, please, so that we might agree on the other occasions."

"I will."

Nodding again, Akihito moved towards the door of the library. He needed to check his own schedule for the week, too… and possibly reschedule an appointment or two to make room for his son. At the door, though, he paused. "…Keigo?"

"Yes?" he heard the slightly distracted reply. Apparently Keigo's attention had already gone back to whatever play it was he was reading.

"…You played beautifully last night."

There was no response even as he walked out of the room.

Suddenly, he was feeling almost… hopeful.


End file.
